


Admission of Feeling

by LeafZelindor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafZelindor/pseuds/LeafZelindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Secret Santa gift for Littlelnim on tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admission of Feeling

“You should tell him.”

“For what aim and purpose?” Sherlock turned his back on Mycroft now, not wanting to listen to him. He could be so annoying sometimes.

“So that you are not brooding over it.” The older Holmes pointed out calmly. Sherlock wanted to huff at him, to yell, something. He hated it when Mycroft was right. It was annoyingly frequent that he was. 

“He’s far to busy to deal with me. He would have called.” Sherlock said stiffly. A weak argument, even he knew it.

“Go over there and tell him.” Mycroft said again. “Else you’ll lose him again.” 

With that the older Holmes took his leave. Sherlock refused to turn around and simply let the sound of his brother fade down the stairs, the door closed with a thump. Sherlock threw himself onto the sofa and folded his hands neatly. He couldn’t lose John again. Had he really had him back however? He wasn’t sure. Mary’s abrupt and rather, permanent disappearance from John’s life had been both a relief and a frustration. Now his friend was also a single father, as well a doctor and his occasional helper. Not that Margaret, Maggie as John liked to call her, wasn’t an interesting child. She was rather well behaved for a 9 month old, and quite bright as John was proud of showing off. She could already walk a little by herself and liked to “draw”. Scribbles more than anything, but it was creative. 

Where was there room in John’s life for him however? He wasn’t sure. He was afraid to ask. Turning his head to the side his eyes fell on his mobile. Maybe a call wouldn’t hurt? A text, yes, that would be better, John could get back to him when it was convenient then. He reached out and snagged the device, carefully typing out his message. 

Lestrade has nothing good lately, Bored. -SH

He was surprised when his phone pinged almost immediately. He blinked a few times at the message on his screen.

Come round and have supper, bring fish and chips. -JW

John was inviting him to dinner then? That was, curious. Unexpected. Sherlock moved to sit up and then debated sending a response. It wouldn’t be in habit for him to do so, so instead he dropped the mobile and moved to change into actual clothing. Trousers, the purple button down he was very certain John was fond of. He ruffled his fingers through his hair, frowning at how it tumbled about, then quickly moved to pull on a jacket before he moved to find his shoes and ready himself to leave. His mobile pinged again. He paused, could be Lestrade. He sighed and scooped it up. 

Pop by the shop and get drinks too. -JW. 

He could still remember what sort of lager John preferred. He also knew he didn’t have any in residence. He detested Tesco, but there wasn’t time to ask Mrs. Hudson to pick some up, he’d just have to brave it himself. Hopefully people wouldn’t be to terrible. His phone pinged once more. He blinked.

Bring your violin? -JW

To that he couldn’t help responding. Sherlock’s fingers stroked over the screen quickly, tapping out the words.

Of course. -SH

With that sent he moved to quietly put his violin in it’s case, making sure everything was settled. pulling on his coat and knotting his scarf he strode out quickly, making his way to the street. It wasn’t worth calling a cab to get the fish and chips, fortunately he remembered there was a Tesco between there and the shop. He turned and strode down the street quickly. The air was crisp, and the feeling of snow was in the air. Sherlock hummed and glanced at his Mobile. Oh, so it was Yule time, December 24th for that matter. He slowed his pace as he approached the Tesco, he could already hear the holiday drivel that passed for music coming from it each time the door opened, and there was, decor everywhere. This was for John, he’d done much worse things for John. Steeled with that thought he stepped into the bright shiny shop and made his way quickly for the isle that contained alcohol and beer. 

He was feeling rather pleased with himself, managing to obtain a pack of John’s lager and make his way to the queue without snapping at anyone. In fact, people seemed to mostly be in hurried moods and were not making attempts to speak to him. That helped immensely. He joined the short line and tried not to fidget. Queue’s were a necessary part of going to the shops, that’s part of the reason why he disliked them. An older gentleman was just in front of him, and ahead yet was a young woman with a baby. The baby was fussing, she was trying to count change out. 

“Must you be so slow” He huffed after she started to recount again. The woman startled and looked at him, eyes huge, a bit scared. Beaten then, by the baby’s father it seemed. To scared to stand up for herself. The evidence was plain as everything. Sherlock took a breath, and then shifted to produce his wallet, holding out a card.

“Go speak to Detective Inspector Donavan, Tell her Sherlock sent you.” He paused then found himself pulling out a few notes and pressing them around the card. “….Go on…Take, care” The last word was said a bit stiffly. He honestly wasn’t sure why he was doing it, perhaps because she reminded him a bit of Molly. 

“..Sir.” She tried to protested. He just stared at her and she swallowed, taking the money as well as the card. She paid much more quickly now and was well out the door and off in the now lightly falling snow before Sherlock himself stepped out. He hurried on to the chippy and then caught a cab to John’s small house. He felt, odd. The feeling stayed with him as he paid the cabbie and headed through the gate and up to the house. A wreath decorated the door, but it was an afterthought, likely put up by someone who wasn’t John. The door was opened before he knocked, John had Maggie on his hip and was bouncing her just a bit.

“Hey, was watching for you.” John stepped back to let him in. Sherlock smiled briefly at that and moved in, carefully removing his shoes on the mat. He put the bags and his violin on the small table there so he could shrug out of his coat and tug off his scarf. “Maggie’s teething, a bit of a fuss…. She’ll settle soon.” He assured, the child in question was chewing on a teething ring and watching Sherlock with wide blue eyes. 

“I’ll, set up the food.” Sherlock offered after a moment. John grinned and nodded. Sherlock moved to grab the bags and his violin up.

“I’ve got the violin, I’ll put it in the living room.” John offered, moving to take it from his hand. Sherlock blinked but allowed him to take it. He quietly moved for the kitchen, knowing the layout of the house just as well as their flat. “thanks for this Sherlock.”

“mm” He quietly got the food out and stuck the beer in the fridge, selecting one to open up for John. It was a few minutes before he brought everything into the living room. John had tucked Maggie into a bouncy chair. She seemed happy to bounce and chew on her ring. He brought over the food and drink.

“Lifesaver, really.” John grinned at him. Sherlock quietly, and neatly settled himself with his own food, taking a few bites now. “You weren’t pulled away from anything, were you?”

“Mycroft and I have hardly altered our Christmas routines.” Sherlock mused quietly, this earned him a low chuckle. “And Mrs. Hudson went to visit friends…”

“Well good, I’m glad for the company. Don’t get enough of it these days.” John mused. This made Sherlock feel a touch guilty. Mycroft must be right. Does that mean the man was watching John still? It must. He didn’t know if he liked that.

“You could move back into the flat.” He said suddenly. John blinked at him a few times, taking another bite of his food slowly. “We can’t all fit in the flat.”

Sherlock felt his cheeks warm some and busied himself with the food for a bit. “Perhaps, Mrs. Hudson would rent out C…” He started.

“Sherlock are you blushing?” John sounded confused really. “Wait, what were you thinking, when you offered…..”

“Just that..” Sherlock pushed his food away and sighed softly. “I miss you.”

“Sherlock I can’t share a room with a baby, not for long anyway.” John said quietly now. “But the offer is nice.”

“Of course not.” Sherlock moved to get up and get his violin out. He couldnt’ bring himself to say what he wanted to say. That he, had offered thinking that John might, share his room. He checked the tune of the Violin and started to play a softer christmas piece. Maggie seemed to be interested, so he played to her. He kept playing for some time, until she fell asleep. He finished the last piece slowly, staring at the small tree in the corner of the room. 

“I’ve missed this too.” John’s voice rolled out quietly, starting him a bit. He turned to look at his friend. A second drink was in front of the doctor, he was watching Sherlock with an expression of… of what, he wasn’t sure. “I’ve missed you.”

Sherlock quietly put the violin down and moved to stand by the window, looking out of it. “Move back in.” He said again. 

“I need a nursery.” John said quietly. Sherlock clasp his hands together behind his back, John could see how his fingers curled around his hand a bit.

“Your old room could be a nursery.” Sherlock suggested now. He could feel the eyes on him. “And, There is my room.” 

“Oh? I know you sleep more than you would prefer to admit.” John said quietly. The chair shifted as he moved to stand. Sherlock didn’t move, he could just make John out in the window. Watching him. “So you need your room.”

“We could share.” He said somewhat softly. John was closer now, he likely heard. 

“Sherlock, what are you saying.” John said quietly. Sherlock closed his eyes and then took a quiet breath and turned to face him. John’s blue eyes were searching when he finally opened his own. Curious, hopeful? Why would he be hopeful. 

“Do you, remember my speech, at your wedding?” He asked quietly. John chuckled softly and nodded quietly. “I told you then, it hasn’t changed.”

“Is that an admission of feeling, from the great Sherlock Holmes?” John asked softly now. Sherlock cleared his throat but then nodded quietly. John chuckled and then reached up, pulling him down quickly to kiss him. The press of lips startled him, but Sherlock soon had his hands cupping John’s face and he was kissing him back. He almost whimpered when John pulled back. “Then I accept.”

“Good” He whispered to John, just staring down at him. He knew it was a big change, for them both, but it was going to be worth it. Every, annoying bit.


End file.
